The Agent's Mail-Order Bride

by Heidi Vanlandingham

  “Oh my...” Cat couldn’t help but laugh. Alice had enough spunk for two women, and she had learned a lot from her since arriving in Alta. Cat had always been too outspoken growing up, and being around Alice had made the bad habit worse.

  She walked Ayana to the door and promised she would be at the saloon for her shift later that afternoon. With Christmas only a few days away, she was cooking more, trying to prepare for her first holiday meal, and she was nervous about how Tate would react. Working a few shifts during the week gave her a bit of extra money for the few necessities she didn’t want to ask him for. Not that her husband wouldn’t give her money if she asked. She just refused to ask him.

  A loud knock sounded at the door and, thinking Ayana had forgotten something, she laid her sewing in the basket and hurried across the room. She pulled open the door with a smile, which faded when she saw Big John stomping the snow off his black boots.

  “Afternoon, Catriona.”

  “Good afternoon.”

  He stared at her from underneath his bushy brows.

  “Well, aren’t you going to invite me in? It’s rather cold out here.”

  Reluctantly, she stepped back and let him into the house. She glanced outside, looking both up and down the narrow street for anyone, but it was empty. She closed the door with a sigh and turned, her hands gripping the brass knob at her back. He walked around the parlor, lifting a trinket on the wide window ledge then setting it back down then picking up or touching something else.

  “How do you like living here?”

  Cat’s stomach knotted.

  “Fine. Just fine. The house is lovely. We can’t thank you enough for your generosity, Mr. Sutton.”

  His dark eyes met hers from across the room.

  “Oh, I’m sure I can think of something you can do to show your appreciation.”

  Dread filled her at his blatant insinuation. Why, oh why had Ayana left so soon? And if Tate kept to the same schedule he followed the past week, she wouldn’t see him until later tonight.

  “I’m not sure I understand—”

  “Oh, you understand perfectly, Catriona.” He stepped closer, closing the distance between them until he stood only a foot away.

  “I need you to do something—something only you can manage.”

  She tried to swallow past the huge lump of fear blocking her throat. As quietly as she could, she twisted the knob at her back in case he moved any closer.

  As if sensing her discomfort, he stepped away. “It’s not that I don’t trust your husband or his friend, but I need to be certain neither one of them is trying to steal away everything I have worked hard for. You understand, don’t you?” He waited for her to nod then continued. “I thought I’d made my interest in you quite clear, but evidently I wasn’t clear enough. I have no problem fighting for what I want...and I want you, Catriona.”

  She struggled to keep the shiver internal when he smiled at her.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, Mr. Sutton. Whether you like it or not, Tate is and will remain my husband.”

  He gave her a pathetic smile and shook his head.

  “Oh, my dear. This is a wild and unforgiving land with many dangers lurking in the mines and around a forest bend. A man...or woman...never knows what could happen from one moment to the next.”

  He held up his hand when Cat opened her mouth, which she closed with a snap of her jaws.

  “Now, I have a job for you. A paying job besides the saloon. I need you to find out why your husband is in Alta. What he’s after and who sent him.”

  Cat frowned. “What makes you think anyone sent him? He told me he heard about the mining and came to stake his own claim—with Thad’s help.”

  “You aren’t that gullible, Catriona. Tate has a reason for being here, and it isn’t mining. Ask questions, act interested, and he’ll open up. Use your pretty little body if necessary, but find out what I need to know.”

  Before she could react, he closed the distance between them and pressed her against the door, her hands and the knob painfully digging into the small of her back. He wrapped his cold hand around the side of her face and shoved her head against the door, pulling her face up to his.

  “Either way, Catriona, you won’t be married to Tate much longer. When that time comes, I will claim what’s mine.”

  He pressed his fat lips against hers in a bruising kiss, the pads of his fingers digging into the thin skin of her cheek. Just as quickly, he let her go, and she stumbled sideways, trying to get away from him. He reached for the door and pulled it open as she swiped the back of her hand across her mouth, wiping away the spit covering her lips. He grinned and gave the brim of his hat a single tug then casually walked up the street toward his saloon.

  Cat couldn’t slam the door hard enough or fast enough. If there had been a lock on it, she would have engaged that as well. She swiped at the tears falling down her cheeks, hating how out of control she felt. She stumbled over to the small settee, and dropped onto the dull gray cushion, her body shaking from trying to hold it together while Big John was here, but nothing she did stopped the trembling.

  The front door burst open, and she let out a shrill squeal before realizing it was only Thad. When his gaze landed on her, he jerked to a stop, his brows disappearing beneath his hat.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She waved his concern away and swallowed what she really wanted to tell him.

  “It’s nothing. You just startled me.”

  His eyes narrowed, and he walked across the room. He kneeled in front of her, his arms resting over his thighs and waited. The hard look on his face told her he wasn’t going to give up until she answered his question.

  After staring at each other, testing one another’s willpower, she gave in. “This is ridiculous! What do you need, Thad?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. You’re not getting out of it that easy. Tell me what has you so ruffled.”

  She let out a loud puff of air and fell back against the settee, a sharp pain stabbing between her shoulder blades. Yes, the piece of furniture hadn’t cost them anything, but why couldn’t it have more cushion on the back? She was coming to regret having accepted this house. Especially now that Big John expected more from her than she was willing to give. Except...

  She tilted her head and studied the slight wrinkles on the outer corners of Thad’s eyes.

  “If I ask you to do something, would you?”

  He leaned back on his heels. “Depends on what it is you want me to do.”

  “I will tell you what upset me, but only if you promise me you won’t tell Tate. You can’t tell him anything.”

  “I can’t make that—”

  “Even if it helps with finding out what Big John’s up to?”

  He frowned. “Wait a minute. How did you—?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Seriously? I wasn’t born yesterday. I’m good at reading lips. I used to do it all the time as a child. It was the only way I knew how to refute whatever my parents were trying to stop me from doing.”

  Needing to keep herself busy and take her mind off what had just happened with Big John, she walked around him to the small kitchen and picked up the coffeepot.

  “I need some coffee. Would you like a cup too?”

  “I would, thanks.”

  She heard the slight scraping of a chair from behind as he sat at the table. Opening the coffee tin, she scooped out several spoonfuls of ground coffee onto a square piece of muslin. She pulled the outer edges together and secured it with twine and dropped it into the bottom of the coffeepot. After adding water, she placed it on the stove to heat up.

  While she waited, she turned over the two mugs she and Tate had used that morning and set them on the counter. Turning around, she leaned against the cabinet edge and folded her arms over her chest.

  “So, are you going to fill me in or are we going to play twenty questions?”

  Thad pulled his frowning gaze away from the coffeepot to stare at her.

/>   “Huh? I thought you were going to be doing the talking, not me.”

  She tamped down her irritation. Thad wasn’t usually this obtuse. She raised her brows and repeated her earlier question.

  “Are you going to tell me what you and Tate are trying to find out about Big John or am I going to have to guess?”

  He shook his head. “Tate would kill me if he found out I said anything.”

  “So...twenty questions it is.” She lifted the coffeepot off the stove and poured the dark liquid into the mugs, doctoring each with sugar and cream, then handed one mug to Thad. He curiously sniffed the coffee then took a tentative sip, his eyes widening.

  “This is really good! I’ve never seen anyone make coffee the way you do...why?”

  “Why have you never seen it made that way or why do I make it that way?”

  He scowled. “Do you always have to be so difficult?”

  “Being difficult just so happens to be my speciality...along with making coffee. My father brewed the first cup I ever drank. It was more burned grounds than anything else. I began experimenting and came up with soaking the beans in a cinnamon-spice concoction then roasting them. Add a little sugar and cream and you have a delicious drink.”

  Thad took another sip. “Remind me to buy you more of everything when I go to the store, which is why I stopped by in the first place. Tate sent me to pick up a few things, like coffee for the miners while they’re on the job. Try to soften them up a bit so they’ll accept us easier.” He grinned. “Bribery goes a long way out here.”

  “That’s a great idea!” She moved back to the cabinet and grabbed a round tin from the countertop and handed it to him. “Here’s my donation. The men will love those with their coffee.”

  Thad opened the lid and smiled as he stared down at the sugar cookies. He bit into one and groaned.

  “Oh, this is delicious! Tate didn’t tell me you could bake!”

  She shrugged. “Tate doesn’t know. He hasn’t stayed here long enough to find out what I can or can’t do.”

  She tried to keep the resentment from her voice because she very much wanted to find out more about him and hoped he would soon feel the same. That would never happen, though, if he never came home.

  Her husband was something of an enigma. His actions were kind and considerate, to her and others he was around, but the moment anything turned back to him, he retreated and got all closed-lipped.

  “Can you tell me where he’s from? Does he have any family?”

  Thad stuck another cookie in his mouth and closed the tin. Finishing off his coffee, he set the mug on the table and swiped away any lingering crumbs from his dark beard.

  “Welder and I met Tate when we were boys. None of us had any family, so we sort of formed our own.”

  Cat sat down in the chair opposite him and cradled the warm mug between her palms.

  “I only saw Welder once—that day you and Tate met with Big John, but something about him seemed wrong. Off, maybe? I’ve never seen him before, but he seemed to know Big John.”

  Thad frowned. “What? Why would you say that?”

  “Just the way they were whispering when you and Tate stood to leave.”

  “Were you able to tell what they said?”

  She smiled. “It’s harder when the man has facial hair but, I believe, Welder asked when something would be done and Big John told him to be patient.”

  Thad fell back against the chair, which squeaked in protest.

  “Well, dang. That’s not good—not good at all.”

  Cat leaned forward, sensing the man’s reluctance to include her weakening.

  “I can help you and Tate. I swear I can. This isn’t my first reconnaissance job, believe it or not. I helped my father keep track of the soldiers camping on our lands during the war, and I was able to learn a few of their plans. I don’t like John Sutton or his men and want to help. Now that Black’s...dead, things will be easier. Everyone around here was afraid of Black. He was a bully...so is Big John, but he isn’t as intimidating as Black was.”

  “How do you propose to help?”

  “As you and Tate already found out, I can pick up information and hear things doing my job. I stay quiet and rarely talk to the miners, so they only notice the drinks I’m putting in front of them, not me.” She forced her tone to stay neutral, even though excitement bubbled up inside her, threatening to spill out with each word.

  “The dancers and the traveling actors troupes talk as well. Big John likes to impress the women, so he always throws an elaborate after-party when a troupe is in town. I suppose it’s his way of getting information outside of Alta since we don’t have a paper here yet.”

  “Hmm,” Thad tapped his upper lip with a finger, his eyes narrowing. “You might be able to help us uncover a few tidbits here and there.”

  His gaze pierced hers as he continued. “But you have to give me the information. Don’t ever let Tate know what you’re doing or that I agreed. He may be my best friend, but that wouldn’t keep him from killing me for putting you in danger.”

  Cat clapped her hands in excitement. “Oh, you won’t regret this. I promise, you won’t!”

  “Now, tell me what had you so upset when I got here.”

  The abrupt question surprised her, but his nonjudgemental expression helped make it easier to open up and tell him.

  “Sutton wants me to spy on the two of you and tell him what you’re after. He also told me he wasn’t giving me up without a fight then...forced himself on me.”

  Thad’s face reddened and a large vein in his neck throbbed. “He did what?”

  She shivered at the coldness in his voice, which held a promise of payback—something they couldn’t afford right now.

  “Listen to me, Thad. Let it go. I have. You can’t afford to confront him...not right now. He will answer for his actions, but you can’t breathe a word of this to anyone. Not even Tate.”

  Thad let out a loud huff and scrubbed his hands over his face.

  “Might as well dig my own grave myself when Tate does find out. Believe it or not, he hates secrets and only keeps them now because of what we’re after.”

  “So, you’re not going to tell me more about my own husband, are you?” She held her breath, waiting for his response. She wondered if she should mention what Welder had said in the dressing room, but when he shook his head, a new burst of frustration bloomed, and she was glad she had kept her mouth shut.

  “It’s his story to tell, not mine.”

  “Well, tell me then if I should be worried? He seems to be a good man, but there are times when I get the feeling he’s holding something back. It would help if he opened up...just a little.”

  She cocked one eyebrow.

  “Wouldn’t hurt you any either. Oh, and if you have the chance, please tell him it would be nice if he came home for longer than a couple hours each night. Big John has already noticed and thinks he can maneuver his way in. If that happens, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

  She thought about Tate’s kiss after the mine incident. Had it been a one-time action or would he kiss her again—if she gave him the chance? Her stomach flip-flopped. Of course she would.

  Thad stood and gathered the tin of cookies, tucking it under one arm and walked to the door.

  “I’ll tell him, and thanks, Cat, for the cookies and coffee.” He stopped in the doorway and looked back at her.

  “You’re working tonight?”

  She nodded. “In about an hour.”

  “Promise me you won’t take unnecessary chances...and that you’ll be careful?”

  “I promise. What about you, Thad? What’s your story?”

  He clamped his mouth shut and walked out of the house, letting the door slam behind him. She raced outside just as he stepped off the porch. She crossed her arms over her chest to shield herself from the biting cold, not that it helped any, and gave a quick glance upward at the thickly falling snow. With each freezing gust, it felt as if the wind rip
ped off a layer of her skin.

  “Why so secretive, Thad? Isn’t this your story? What’s so terrible that neither of you will talk to me?”

  Chapter 12

  Tate’s irritation grew as he swung the pickaxe, hitting the tunnel wall in front of him. Nothing about this job had gone right from the beginning. Everything was spiraling out of control, and he had no idea how to make things right. Not only was Welder causing problems and picking fights, but Cat was driving him crazy as well. If he were honest with himself, admitting that his wife was just an innocent bystander would be easy, but he wasn’t. His frustration grew and the pickaxe swung harder. He placed the blame for his inability on her.

  He’d let himself get too close to her, and all the things from his past he thought were behind him resurfaced. The worst of them all, his old outlaw life seemed to be pulling him back in, and he hadn’t been prepared enough to fight it. He didn’t know if he could continue to fight off the familiar feelings of wanting more and never quite getting enough.

  The pickaxe hit the rock with a loud clang, then another and another, until he’d worked up a good rhythm. Sweat dripped into his eyes, but he didn’t care. The frustration he experienced earlier had somehow turned into something more. He was determined not to throw away the life he’d worked so hard for.

  Clang.

  He was determined not to disappoint Allan Pinkerton. Clang. He was determined to keep Cat at arm’s length.

  Clang.

  “Boss?”

  Tate lowered the pickaxe and leaned against the handle, the muscles in his arms, shoulders, and back burning from the unexpected exertion. He gave the two men standing in the dark tunnel a cursory glance. He had seen the two of them working side by side in the mine, both before and after the explosion. He had also noticed the two of them buddying up to Welder.

  “What do you need?”

  The shorter, bearded man glanced at his companion who was just as unkempt. Both men’s clothes hadn’t seen a washtub in a while and, from the odor filling his nostrils, neither had their bodies. With a flick of his thumb, the miner motioned to the taller man beside him.